


this time, we go sublime

by aarobron



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Robron Christmas Calendar 2018, Teen AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 07:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16849627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aarobron/pseuds/aarobron
Summary: aaron has been in love with his best friend’s brother since he knew what love was, but robert doesn’t know he exists. when he starts getting christmas presents from a secret santa, he has no idea who could be sending them, but will he find out at the annual christmas party?or,Aaron anticipates the secret santa event with as much excitement as he does everything else. Which is, of course, none. It’s just another way to separate the popular kids from the freaks, another factor to add to the hallway teasing, the bullying.Not that Aaron has ever been bullied. A kid from the rugby team tried it once – after that weird period of a month where Aaron came out, subsequently tried to kill himself, and then had to take weeks off school to recover – and Aaron had punched him in the face. Sent him stumbling to the ground and broke his nose. Nobody’s ever bothered him since.It’s alright for the first few days. He doesn’t get any gifts, but he doesn’t expect to. The only other person at this school that’s out is Finn, and that’s… Well. Aaron’s been there and done that, and he almost regrets it. Almost.





	this time, we go sublime

**Author's Note:**

> hello!
> 
> this is my contribution to robron christmas calendar.
> 
> title from [the power of love by frankie goes to hollywood](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NyoTvgPn0rU)
> 
> thank you for reading x

“It’s not even like he knows who I am,” Aaron explains dutifully, placing the book back in the shelf. They’ve been over this a million times, but it doesn’t stop Adam bringing it up every other week. “Well, past Vic, obviously. But he’s never even looked at me twice.”

It’s pathetic, really. Aaron’s been in love with Robert since year nine, since the time he realised that spark of attraction he felt was not how boys normally feel about other boys. It was a struggle to accept it, at first (and it still is, sometimes, but he’s learnt not to dwell on it for too long), but he’s learnt a few things along the way. 

He learnt that his family don’t feel any differently about him. That Adam would still be by his side, and Vic would always be fiercely protective. That maybe, yes, there would be a few people that don’t like him or his sexuality, but really, those are few and far between.

That’s not the problem here, not anymore. No, the problem is that he’s in love with Robert Sugden, but Robert doesn’t even know he _exists_. They’ve barely spoken, apart from that one time Robert thought Aaron and Vic were a thing, but that conversation was over the second Aaron had spat that he was gay and Robert had stumbled over his words before turning away and fleeing.

“So make an impression,” Adam says, as if it’s obvious. He gently punches Aaron on the shoulder, trademark grin still fixed in place, like this is all fun and games. “Make sure he knows who you are.” 

“How exactly am I supposed to do that?” Aaron scoffs, turning to face his best friend. He leans against the bookshelf, turning his nose up at the look on Adam’s face. He’s clearly thinking; coming up with ideas that will inevitably end up with Aaron looking like an idiot. “Whatever disaster of a plan _you_ think of is just gonna make me look like a tool, and he’s not gonna want me then, is he?” 

Adam’s face falls, smile crushed for half a second before it lights back up again. There may as well be a brightly lit bulb above his head for it, and he points a finger a little too close to Aaron’s face.

“I know!” He says, way too excited for a Monday morning free period. He grips Aaron by both shoulders and shakes him a little bit, until Aaron wrenches himself away. “The school’s doing that secret santa thing this year – you could send him gifts!” 

“With what money?” Aaron counters. He’s been putting in a few hours at Cain’s garage after school and at weekends, but that doesn’t earn him a lot, and he’s definitely not wasting it all on some weird school tradition. Besides, Robert looks like he’s got expensive tastes. “And _everyone_ fancies him. He’ll be getting loads of presents, mine are hardly gonna stand out.” 

“It’s like you don’t even want him to notice you,” Adam says, practically pouting. He copies Aaron’s pose, resting his body against the shelf, trying to meet his friend’s gaze head on. Aaron keeps his head down and his eyes on the floor. 

“I just don’t want to make myself look like an idiot,” he admits quietly, biting his lip. It’d be so easy to make a show of himself in front of Robert, to put himself out there, but what if it backfires? They live in the same village. Aaron would bump into him all the time. “Just drop it, yeah?” 

Thankfully, Adam does.

.

Aaron anticipates the secret santa event with as much excitement as he does everything else. Which is, of course, none. It’s just another way to separate the popular kids from the freaks, another factor to add to the hallway teasing, the bullying.

Not that Aaron has ever been bullied. A kid from the rugby team tried it once – after that weird period of a month where Aaron came out, subsequently tried to kill himself, and then had to take weeks off school to recover – and Aaron had punched him in the face. Sent him stumbling to the ground and broke his nose. Nobody’s ever bothered him since. 

It’s alright for the first few days. He doesn’t get any gifts, but he doesn’t expect to. The only other person at this school that’s out is Finn, and that’s… Well. Aaron’s been there and done that, and he almost regrets it. Almost. 

So it’s not like anyone’s going to send him anything, is it? He’s glad, quite frankly, because the thought of the year thirteens dressed up as elves breaking into his form room after lunch and calling out his names brings him out in a cold sweat. It’s anxiety inducing, that. His worst nightmare, come to life. 

Like clockwork, the girls come into his form room, all pointy hats, rouged cheeks and a portable speaker playing christmas songs full blast. It’s a bit embarrassing, really, and Aaron shrinks back as they start listing out names and tossing gifts.

He’s glad he found a seat at the back, to be honest. He can hide his head, avoid eye contact with everyone, and block it all out until it’s over. Or, at least, he can try – because Adam seems hell bent on making himself as known as possible. He’s practically vibrating in his chair, eyes locked on the front of the room like he _wants_ his name to be called.

Except. Except life is never that kind, is it?

“Aaron Dingle!” One of the girls yells from the front of the room, in a sing-song tone. Time seems to freeze, and all Aaron can hear is blood rushing in his ears, mouth dropped open.

Adam grabs his bicep and shakes excitedly, yapping on about who he thinks this is, but Aaron isn’t listening. His mind is both empty and working overtime, trying to figure out who would send him something, and he only just manages to thank the girl when she drops the gift onto his desk. 

“Well, go on then!” Adam says, once Aaron’s hearing has finally cleared enough. His best friend slaps him on the back, almost winding Aaron, but he breathes through it, shooting Adam daggers. “Open it!” 

It takes another second or five for Aaron’s brain to register it, and he stares at the object in front of him. It’s inoffensive, really – a small square box, neatly wrapped in bright red christmas paper with a perfect little bow on top.

So why does Aaron feel like it’s going to _murder_ him?

Another thump on the arm forces him to move, and he carefully unties the ribbon, peeling the paper back with military precision. He doesn’t know why; he normally just tears his presents open without a second thought – but this feels different. Like a ticking time bomb.

He’s almost disappointed when all that’s left sitting in front of him is a box of sweets. A clear box, filled with individually wrapped sweets. That’s it. That’s what made his heart race so fast.

“What kind of a gift is that?” Adam says, wrinkling his nose up. He sounds as put off as Aaron feels, body slumping back in his chair as Aaron slides a thumb under the edge of the box to open them. “They’re just old granny sweets.”

Aaron looks at them thoughtfully. Picks one up and takes the wrapper off, placing it in his mouth. Closes his eyes, because they’re _his favourites_. Someone got him his favourite sweets for christmas. Who would even know that, apart from his mum and Paddy?

Surely it’s just a coincidence. It must be.

He knows it’s secret santa, emphasis on the secret, but something tells him to look at the tag that was taped to the wrapping paper. Maybe there’s some kind of clue – anything to tell him what the fuck is going on. 

**To Aaron, Merry Christmas. Love, ss x**

**PS. Hope you weren’t too embarrassed.**

He falls back in his chair, a rush of disappointment flooding his veins. Well, that was pointless. He’s still no closer to knowing what the fuck is going on, and Adam doesn’t seem invested enough to help him find out.

One of life’s mysteries, he supposes.

.

There’s no gifts for the next few days, and Aaron doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or relieved. He still tries to fold himself as small as possible when he hears that first burst of christmas music, but his ears prick up in anticipation.

Adam seems to have forgotten all about it, and Vic keeps smiling – a little secretive thing that makes Aaron feel uncomfortable, but he cannot for the life of him work out why. 

The weirdest part of it all was his mum. She’d seemed uncharacteristically interested in his day, asking him if anything had happened, and actually, physically, _clapped_ when he told her about the gift.

Like, literally clapped.

So now he’s timed it perfectly: he gets in the door at four fifteen on the dot, when Chas is restocking the crisps. He legs it up the stairs two at a time and into the shower, and praises the lord for another interrogation free day.

Not that there’s anything to interrogate about – and he’s glad about it. Of course he is. Definitely. Absolutely.

And that’s that.

He tells Adam this, almost a week on from the first present. He didn’t want to talk about it (himself his never his favourite topic of choice), but he can only seem to ignore Adam’s needling for so long.

“But like, don’t you think it’s weird?” Adam says, shuffling forward a few steps. The queue for the canteen is ridiculously long, and Aaron’s stomach grumbles in response. “Innit weird that you only got one present?”

“I dunno, do I? I’ve never sent anyone anything,” Aaron says with a sigh. He tries to refrain from rolling his eyes, because he is entirely clueless about the whole thing, but Adam seems to think he knows everything. Which, frankly, defeats the object of a _secret santa_. “Did you get the invite to Chrissie White’s party?” 

“‘Course I did,” Adam grins, trying for smug but just coming off as obnoxious. Honestly, they’re probably the same thing, but Aaron can’t really tell. Adam wears all his feelings with over enthusiasm, to the point he looks like a puppy most of the time. “Who wouldn’t want the biggest stud in school at the party?”

Adam flexes his biceps, lips pursed like one of the year eight girls taking a mirror selfie, and Aaron physically gags. “They should uninvite you for that alone,” he says, smacking his best friend with the tray in his hands. 

Something catches his eye, turning his mind away from the conversation at hand. A flash of blond hair and tanned skin, an easy smile, and the eyes Aaron’s dreamt about for years. Robert Sugden, in the flesh, walking around the school like he owns the place and couldn’t care less about it.

He doesn’t realise Adam’s been chatting incessantly until there’s an elbow to his ribs and Robert has disappeared into the crowd. “Ow!” He yelps, rubbing the spot over his shirt. “What was that for?”

“I _said_ ,” Adam says, glaring out of the corner of his eye. Even that looks comical, exaggerated and cartoonish. It’s a wonder Vic still wants him. “Did you do the history homework?” 

“What homework?” Aaron asks mildly. His mind is still reeling from the flash second of seeing Robert, cheeks flushed and heart pounding too fast to be healthy. 

“Er, the mock test,” Adam says as if it’s obvious. He shuffles forward, because they’ve finally reached the warmer trays, and piles mashed potatoes onto his plate. “On Elizabeth the first?” 

“That’s due next week,” Aaron says. He casts his mind back to the lesson, but it’s all gone – the only thing he can remember is thinking that he wouldn’t need to write it down, but that’s fucked now. “Adam, please tell me that’s due next week. I haven’t even _revised_ , Adam! What am I supposed to do!?” 

Adam just laughs, the traitor; cackles, really, sounding way too amused with Aaron’s misfortune than he should. Some kind of best friend he is.

God. He’s well and truly fucked.

.

Another day, another embarrassing elf performance. 

The rest of Aaron’s form seems to light up when the year thirteens come in, but now he’s gotten over the paranoia that his name is going to be called out again, he’s more than happy to pretend it isn’t happening. It’s just easier that way.

It’s all background noise, now. A mindless hum as they list off other students, while Aaron gets his head down and finishes the homework for sixth period. He definitely should have done it last week – last night, at the very latest – but there’s no perfect time like the present, he supposes. 

He’s minding his own business, thinking about what he can beg Marlon to make him for tea, when he’s pulled back to reality with a harsh bump. Or, a harsh fist to his shoulder, courtesy of Adam.

“What?” Aaron snaps, looking up at his best friend with a frown, rubbing the spot he was punched. Adam’s hits _hurt_ , even though Aaron knows he doesn’t mean them to. He’s just constantly excited, and probably doesn’t know his own strength.

Or he’s evil on purpose. It’s probably the latter.

“They called your name!” Adam hisses, and when Aaron finally looks up, he notices that the whole room has their eyes on him. Even the ones he hasn’t spoken to since year seven maths. He barely even remembers their names.

He stutters out a thank you as a girl with too-orange fake tan and bright green lipstick drops the gift on the desk in front of him, cheeks burning bright red.

Thankfully, the room seems to go back to normal after that. There’s more names to be read out, and everyone is listening intently – including Adam – so he takes the brief moment to open the present.

It’s wrapped just as neatly for the first one, but the paper is different. Shiny silver with brightly coloured boughs of holly, wrapped in ribbon, and a glittery tag on it.

**Hi Aaron,**

**Heard you might need a little help with your organisation. Hopefully you won’t forget your homework next time.**

**Love, ss x**

**PS. You’re going to Chrissie’s party, aren’t you? See you there?**

That seems like a lot to process, and it’s a little overwhelming, so he pushes the tag to the side and focuses on the gift instead. It’s bigger than the other, but flat. Long and not very wide. 

It gives Aaron no ideas to what it could be, so he stops trying to guess and opens it instead.

And it’s… A calendar. A monthly calendar, boasting the best of Liverpool FC. Aaron doesn’t think he’s ever had one of those in a life, let alone a _football_ one. He barely uses his school planner.

His mind clicks back to the tag – **_heard you might need a little help with your organisation_** – and a startling realisation hits him.

Was… someone listening to his conversation with Adam? 

Really, it could’ve been anyone; they were in the queue for lunch with at least fifty different people, but it feels almost significant. Would any of those fifty people know what team he supports? He’s not exactly one of those lads that goes around shouting about his love for sports.

_Robert_ , his mind supplies – unhelpfully. Yeah, he saw Robert, but only for a split second. And Robert wouldn’t give a shit if Aaron missed his deadline, would he? He’s not even sure Robert knows his name, or sees him as an actual living person past that gay kid that’s friends with Victoria.

Maybe he’ll find out who it is at the party, he thinks, and keeps it in his mind to drag him through the next two weeks.

.

Adam doesn’t say anything about it. He smirks, tells Aaron how shit Liverpool are (but he supports United so really, he’s not got a leg to stand on), and then gives him a copy of their upcoming deadlines so Aaron can write them down.

That’s it. That’s literally it.

He doesn’t ask who sent it, and he doesn’t bother trying to find out. He also doesn’t think it’s that weird when Aaron points out that someone must’ve been listening to their conversation. Instead, he shrugs, and says, “It’s a big school, man.”

And then the conversation is turned to what Adam should get Vic for christmas. They’ve only been together a handful of months, but the three of them have been friends for years. Practically inseparable these days, so Adam should really know what she likes by now. 

“Well you dated her, too!” Adam says, almost petulantly. He keeps shivering, but it’s clearly an exaggeration. It’s not that cold outside – especially not with a beanie and a scarf on – but Aaron decided they should eat their lunch on the field. They needed the fresh air.

It’s nothing to do with the fact Robert has been practising with the school football team at lunch every day this week. Not at all. 

“She’s your girlfriend,” Aaron says, although it’s a little distracted. The half time whistle has been called on the match, and Robert’s stood right next to them, having a water break.

He’s only wearing shorts and the team’s shirt, head tipped back as he drinks… Aaron’s mouth is a little dry. All the blood in his brain has rushed somewhere else.

“Did you get new aftershave?” He asks, barely sparing a glance at Adam, but he can feel his best friend’s eyes on him. He’s going to get the shit ripped out of him for this, but it’s definitely worth it. He wants the sight committed to memory. 

“Who uses aftershave?” Adam says, rolling his eyes. That’s probably why he doesn’t know what to get Vic for christmas – uncultured as he is.

Aaron seriously understand how he got lumbered with a friend like _that_.

.

The next gift isn’t a surprise. He expects it, expects the one-sided conversation via the means of tags, but he still feels as embarrassed as he did the first time, even if he hides it a little better now. 

His secret admirer isn’t much of a secret anymore. Obviously, he still doesn’t know who it is, but it seems like the whole school is talking about it: that gay kid, Aaron Dingle, getting his _third_ present. Who could it be? There’s very few kids that are out at this school. Maybe it’s someone playing a trick on him. 

Aaron’s entertained the last idea, but only for a split second. Of course the thought crossed his mind, but it sent his head spinning and his stomach in somersaults, so he actively decided to think about something else. Anything else, really. Anything to make the feeling go away. 

So maybe, just maybe, it _is_ someone who genuinely likes him… He just hopes it’s not Finn, especially after the last disastrous attempt; attempt meaning that time they made out a party and Barton thought they were boyfriends for a full month before Aaron set him straight. 

He unwraps this gift without thinking about it too much, trying not to draw attention to himself. Adam’s off sick, apparently full of the flu, so Aaron finds a little bubble of peace on his empty desk. 

It’s a heavy box, plain black with embossed letters, spelling out ARMANI CODE. Aftershave, and the expensive kind. It’s way too much just for secret santa (and especially just for _Aaron_ ), and he feels a little overwhelmed as he slips the bottle out of the box and sprays it onto his hand.

The scent is familiar, like he’s been around it recently, and it takes him a few second to place it until it hits him: yesterday, at lunch, when Adam told him he didn’t wear aftershave.

He searches through the scraps of paper until he finds the tag, and the same neat handwriting as the others is printed on the card. 

**Aaron,**

**You said you liked the smell, so I thought I’d buy you it. I know it’s a little over the price range, but you deserve it.**

**Love, ss x**

**PS. I’ll be at Chrissie’s party from 8. If I see you, I’ll say hello, I promise.**

Well… He feels no closer, head still in a mess as he tries to process all this new information, but at least he can narrow it down to one of the lads on the football team.

So that’s only eleven people to choose from. 

.

“Oi,” Chas says, bumping Aaron’s bedroom door open with her hip. Her arms are wrapped around a washing basket, and she’s frowning at him, wrinkling her nose as she glances around the room. It’s not _that_ bad in here, Aaron cleaned last weekend. “Do you ever get off that phone?” 

“Yes,” Aaron replies, but it’s distracted, because a picture of Robert pops up on his Instagram feed. Granted, it’s of Robert _and_ Vic, but it’s like his vision has blurred around the edges. He can only focus on that bright grin, those green eyes. “Do you ever knock?” 

“Cheeky sod,” his mum tuts, opening his drawers to fold his clean clothes and put them away. She always complains that he needs to start doing things himself, but then babies him a minute later. She’s probably the least consistent person he knows, but he’s not gonna complain about it. 

He doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead clicking on Robert’s Instagram account, and starts scrolling. He does this way more than he should, probably, but it’s the only way he gets to keep up. He daren’t follow Robert – that would look weird. 

“Oh, before I forget,” Chas says. She knocks his phone out of his hands and then pulls something out of her pocket, waving it in Aaron’s face. “Did you forget something?” 

“I didn’t even know I’d lost this,” Aaron says with a frown, taking his iPod from his mum. It’s a battered old thing, barely used since he decided to fork out for Spotify premium, but he still carries it around with him. “Where was it?”

“On the football field at school, apparently,” his mum says. She rolls her lips into a thin line, and Aaron braces himself for a lecture about respecting his belongings, but instead she breaks out into a grin that she can’t stop. “Handed in at the bar this morning.” 

“Who found it?” Aaron asks. He knows it’s not Finn – the kid won’t go near any sport, not even to look at the players – and Adam and Vic would have just given it to him personally.

“That’d be telling,” Chas says, patting his knee, and then leans forward to press a sloppy kiss to his forehead. “I’m really happy for you, son.” 

She’s out the door with footsteps trailing down the stairs before Aaron can ask why, and he lays back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling.

And resigns himself to not knowing what’s going on, probably for the rest of his life. It’s pathetic.

.

“Aaron Dingle!” The elf yells. He’s pretty sure her name is Eloise, but they’ve never really spoken. Adam probably tried to get off with her at a party once, and moaned about it for a month afterwards. “A gift for you.” 

This time, he knows what's coming, and manages to control the blush that's fighting it's way to his cheeks. He thanks Eloise without stuttering, ignores Adam's playful jibes, and turns the present over in his hands.

It's flat, small and square - a CD is his first thought, but who listens to those anymore? Aaron doesn't have a CD player, and he's not sure the disk drive in his dusty old laptop even works.

He plucks the tag off the ribbon first, carefully placing it to the side, before ripping the paper off. It is a CD, with the names of tracks scrawled on the case in permanent marker. Arctic Monkeys, The Stone Roses, all the stuff he listens to... the stuff that's on his iPod.

That means his mum knows who it is, and they have her blessing. He hopes to god it's not Finn, because she's constantly going on about what a good boy he is and how they'd make a great couple. He doesn't think he'd be able to handle rejecting Finn again, and Ross would probably actually kick his head in this time. At least last time it was only a threat.

He stuffs the CD inside his backpack before Adam can grab it off him, but thankfully the other boy is leaning over the table to see what Jamie Fenton got. Regardless, he snatches the tag and curls his palm around the edge, ducking his head to read the blocky script.

**Aaron,**

**I know a mix tape is a bit nineties, but I wanted to do something personal for your last gift. I really hope I got the songs right. You've got a good music taste, though.**

**Love, ss x**

**PS. I know I said I'd say hi at the party, but I don't want to leave it up to fate anymore. If you want to know who I am, I'll be under the oak tree in Chrissie's garden at 9. If you don't show, I completely understand. See you soon - hopefully xx**

He doesn't realise he's holding his breath until he finishes reading and deflates, mind working in overdrive. Chrissie's party is on Christmas eve.

Christmas eve is two days away.

He's finally going to find out who's been sending him gifts.

It's like a dream come true.

.

When his mum asks, he tells her it’s Christmas that he’s excited for. He has to put up with all the fond digs about being too old to believe in Santa from the rest of the Dingles, but it’s worth it. It’s definitely worth it.

Because he’s counting down the hours until Chrissie’s party. He doesn’t really like the girl – she went out with Robert once, for a grand total of three months, but that’s _definitely_ not why he doesn’t like her – and Adam has noticed something is up. God, he’s noticed. He won’t stop going on about it.

Aaron’s keeping this to himself. He considered telling Adam, but then the scenario played out in his head: Adam and Vic insisting on coming with him, or even worse, hiding behind some bushes, just to see what’s going on. That would really kill the moment, and Aaron wants to keep this. All his, whoever the person may be.

He digs out his best Henley and even irons it, careful around the embroidered logo and doubling over the hems. He even uses the _steam_ , and he doesn’t know what it’s for. Paired with his best jeans and a healthy spray of Armani Code, he’s ready, and stands in front of the mirror for ten minutes, checking everything twice over.

It has to be perfect. He has to be perfect.

“You look nice,” Vic says, when he meets them up the road. They’re walking to the party – Chrissie lives on the outskirts of the village, in one of the big houses Aaron’s mum always eyes enviously as they drive past. “Trying to impress someone?” 

“No,” Aaron says, ignoring her secretive smile and staring straight ahead. It’s too cold to only be wearing his Harrington, but a proper coat would’ve ruined the look he was going for. “But you seem interested. Better be careful, Adam.” 

Adam scoffs, and starts listing off all the reasons he’s better than Aaron (none of which are true), but Aaron isn’t really listening. His mind is spinning, breath caught in his lungs as he thinks about all the ways this meeting could go. Of all the people it could be, and all the things it leads to. 

“We’re so late!” Vic hisses, pulling her phone out of her pocket. Alright, so maybe Aaron had hated the way his hair went when he styled it and washed it again, but it’s not _his_ fault. “God, it’s almost nine, get a move on!” 

Their steps speed up, but Aaron is a split second away from breaking into a run. He glances at his own watch, to read that they’ve got four minutes until nine, and his heart starts pounding. He doesn’t want to miss this chance; doesn’t think he could live with himself if he did.

“Glad you could make it,” Chrissie says at the door, smiling sweetly, but it’s six different levels of fake. She hadn’t gotten on with Vic when her and Robert were together, and Aaron’s still ninety per cent convinced that she spread a rumour about him, but he can’t prove it. Still, she invited them, so she opens the door wide and lets them through. “There’s cans in the kitchen. Or wine – if that’s your thing.” 

The look on her face tells Aaron that she knows it’s not his thing, that she thinks they’re all common as muck, but he doesn’t quite have it in himself to care. His stomach is doing flips and his heart is threatening to burst right out of his chest. He’s got one minute.

“D’you want a drink?” Adam says, pushing through the crowds of kids to get to the kitchen. Vic’s hanging off his arm, and Aaron follows, but not for a drink. He’s got more important things to be doing.

“I’ve got something I need to do,” Aaron says dismissively, reaching for the door that leads into the garden. He’s stopped by Adam’s hand on his arm, a frown on his best friend’s face, but he just shakes his head. He doesn’t have time for this. “I’ll find you in a bit, alright? I promise.” 

The cold air hits him like a slap to the face when he steps outside. There’s a handful of people lingering on the patio, cigarettes in hand and laughing with their friends, but Aaron shoulders past them and glances around the garden. It’s dark, way too dark to see, and he’s not even sure if he knows what an oak tree _looks_ like and this is probably all for nothing and he’s out of time-

But then he sees someone, a few metres in the distance. They’re standing under a huge tree that sprawls in different directions, back resting against the trunk and face tipped down to the floor. He can’t see who it is from this far back, so he takes tentative steps towards them.

“Aaron,” the person says, head snapping up and shuffling towards him. It’s- It’s _Robert Sugden_ , standing there in a shirt and tie, like this is a board meeting rather than a house party.

“Robert,” Aaron says. His voice wavers and he clears this throat, coming to a stop in front of the older boy. Maybe he’s just out here to get some peace and quiet – it is loud in there. “What are you doing here?” 

The grin on Robert’s face is tinged with something bashful, a feeling that Aaron can’t quite put his finger on, but he doesn’t have the time to dwell on it, because it falls when Aaron questions him. Robert frowns instead.

“I was waiting for you,” Robert says. He’s smiling again, a tiny little thing that seems more amused than anything, and takes a step closer. Aaron can smell his aftershave, spicy at the base of his throat. “Aaron, I was your secret santa.”

“No,” Aaron says, shaking his head. He backs up when Robert moves closer, holding his hands out in front of him. Does Robert think this is funny? Because it’s not. It’s cruel. “No, you’re not. Are you taking the piss?” 

“What are you on about?” Robert snaps, rubbing two fingers over his forehead. He tries to take Aaron’s hand, but the younger man wrenches his arm away, ignoring the hurt look on Robert’s face. “Why would I joke about this? I _like_ you, Aaron.” 

“You don’t even know who I am. I don’t think you’ve ever willingly had a conversation with me in your life,” Aaron spits. He can feel the fury burning through his veins, tears welling up in his eyes. He should have known the whole thing was too good to be true. “Did you make this little plan up with your friends? Have a good laugh at the poor gay kid, because no one else wants him?” 

He turns his back on Robert, intending to head straight through the house and go home where he can wallow in peace (and try and breathe through the embarrassment), but long fingers curl around his wrist and pull him back. His body hits the tree trunk with a thud and Robert is towering over him, jaw clenched with determination as he meets his gaze head on. 

“Listen to me. Just shut up and listen, alright?” Robert says, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. His cheeks are flushed, but not from the cold. “I know who you are, Aaron. I know that you’ve had it rough, and I know that it hasn’t stopped you the kindest person you possibly could be. I know how much you love your friends, and I know that you treat my sister with the respect she deserves. I know that you’re clever and funny and you’re caring, and you’re- well, you’re gorgeous, aren’t you?

“I know how I feel whenever I see you – whenever you walk into a room I can’t take my eyes off of you, and you take my breath away. I know, it’s disgusting, but it’s _true_. I want to know you, I want to know everything about you alright? That’s why I sent you those gifts. I’m done waiting for the right chance to make the first move, and I’m making it now. This is me, laying all my feelings on the line.” 

Aaron just stares, mouth dropped open, speechless. That doesn’t happen often. A tiny part of his brain is still telling him that it’s a joke, but he can’t quite get himself to move. “But you’re straight,” Aaron whispers eventually. 

“Obviously I’m not,” Robert says, rolling his eyes, but it’s good natured. There’s an embarrassed smile on his face and he runs his fingers through his hair, finally releasing the vice grip he has on Aaron’s wrist. “I don’t know what I am, but I like _you_. And I’ll figure it out eventually, but right now…” 

“How did you even know?” Aaron asks, eyes tracking over every detail of Robert’s face. He wants to commit this all to memory, every single second and the tiniest detail. “How did you know that you liked me?”

“Vic figured it out,” Robert says, but the line of his shoulders is growing tenser by the minute. He’s probably worried Aaron is going to reject him, but an answer is the last thing on the younger boy’s mind. “I dunno, I just… I kept asking about you, but whenever she asked if I wanted to join your plans, I couldn’t go through with it. It scared me being near you, because I didn’t wanna say the wrong thing.” 

A beat of silence follows, and then another, until all that’s filling Aaron’s ears is their harsh breathing and the rushing of his own blood. He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing either. He doesn’t want to break this tentative moment between them.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Robert asks eventually, voice breaking at the end. He sounds like a man on the verge of a breakdown, one who’s at the very end of his tether. 

“Of course I do,” Aaron says, tilting his chin up towards Robert. He squares his shoulders – a challenge – and sees Robert’s entire frame sag with relief. “I mean – I like you. I always have, Robert. I really like you.” 

“Then why haven’t you kissed me yet?” Robert asks, caught somewhere between cocky and dizzying joy. “I _did_ make the first move, after all.” 

But then he contradicts his own words and fits the curve of his palm along the line of Aaron’s jaw, tilting his head up as he closes the gap between their mouths. The kiss is everything’s Aaron’s ever wanted; sweet and careful, hot and messy, slow and deep. It makes his toes curl in his trainers and he fists his hands into Robert’s jacket, pulling the older boy closer. 

“You smell really good,” Aaron admits mindlessly when he pulls away. Robert’s forehead is still resting against his own, soft puffs of breath against his cheek, and he wants to keep this feeling inside of him forever.

“Well,” Robert says, drawling the end of the world slowly. He’s grinning like the cat that got the cream and closes his eyes, contentment washing over his skin. “It’s Armani Code.” 

Aaron laughs, curling his arms around Robert’s waist and drawing him in for a hug. He buries his face into the curve of his neck and shoulder, breathes in deep and commits the scent to memory: spicy and smoky, but also something warm that’s entirely Robert.

“Happy Christmas, Aaron,” Robert whispers directly into his ear, pressing a soft kiss to Aaron’s hair. He sounds a little choked with emotion, and the younger man smooths his palms up the line of Robert’s spine.

“Yes it is,” he replies, and leans in for one more searing kiss. It’s definitely one holiday that Aaron’s going to remember forever. 

And there’ll be plenty more in the future – for the rest of their lives, if Robert will have him.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @ [aarobron](http://aarobron.tumblr.com/) xo


End file.
